Rise of a King
by Soul Eater
Summary: Jareth was once a normal human like any one else, but a dying king and a thirst for power soon lead him to the underground where he would be transformed into one of the Labyrinth’s greatest rulers.
1. An Old King

A/N: Ah yes, My first Labyrinth fiction! I have for all my life had a huge crush on David Bowie and now have decided to finally get around to writing a Labyrinth fan fiction. Ah yes, any way. Please if you don't like what/how I am writing this story; tell me in a kind civilized way.

Oh, and I don't own any of the characters. (And sadly so!)

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_"You're not alone, not forsaken, but you've got a brand new hope"_

**-20 Minute Loop**

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His mind was restless, the complexity and endless crevasses of his brain was filled to its capacity. His eyes lost the luster and intimidation they once had. In his ageing years of ruling his kingdom of the goblins, he had hardly realized how old he had become. And this troubled his deeply. Derek, king of the goblins, ruler and overseer of his labyrinth, a dying man.

His frame was waning, not at all the once well toned one of his youth. His once full head of black hair was now streaked with silver and gray. Wrinkles made his face no better then the goblins, and this vain aspect along with the rest continued to nag him.

Magic had been good to him. His years stretched longer then any mortal's should. Most of them had been spent in his prime; he was the equivalent of being in his mid thirties during most of his life he supposed. Sitting in his throne, Derek had been thinking for the better half of the day about these things, and in doing so had not realized that it was noon time, and he had yet to eat that day.

The room was as always, filled with about a few dozen or so goblins, much less then normal truthfully. But it was a warm spring day, Derek assumed many of his subjects were wandering about in the junkyard outside the city, or cleaning out their own homes ridding themselves of the winter filth that had accumulated. The underground was much like its less magical counterpart subject to cold. However, he called out to no one in particular; just who happened to stumble into action first that he was hungry and desired food. A few of the closer goblins complied and scurried off into the kitchens.

Derek had tried to avoid it in his head, the subject that was nagging him...he needed to find a successor. He needed to find someone who could take his place as king of the Goblins after his time had finally come to pass. But in doing so meant he would have to travel to Earth, expending much of his energy. He had debated simply sending a goblin up, but it would not only be a little conspicuous, but Derek so much would rather seeing the one he was looking for first hand.

It was not going to be a blind search either, and he was certainly not going to simply go above to look at every soul, but to simplify things turned once again to the magic of his crystals. They were guided by his feelings, making its paths much like Derek would have himself. They would do the primary searching.

He brought one of his gloved hands up to his eyes and rubbed them with an excessive amount of pressure. It helped though, the pressure seemed to push away some of the stress. Letting his eyes come back into focus, he overlooked the room. It was, like most of his subject's homes, less then pleasant to look at.

"This must be done soon." Derek muttered and propped him self up. "Goblins!" His voice suddenly bellowed. "Send out the word, by exactly three o'clock today, I would like every one to meet here. Do not be late, no excuses."

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"Jareth! Would you be as so kind as to please pay attention to the lesson for once?" The yelling had done little to stir the young boy from his thought. The short fat teacher sighed angrily and slapped his ruler onto the desk. Jareth jumped finally and blinked looking at his teacher.

"I'm sorry Mr. Lexor, it won't happen again." Jareth spat out almost like it was a written response programmed inside him. The truth was however very little kids were paying attention in the first place. Spring had finally given them its first warm day and the England countryside was calling to every young person to come and enjoy its richness. Jareth just so happened to be the only one caught.

As soon as Mr. Lexor had turned back to the front of the class and to the black board, the 17 year old boy tuned out again.

'Math, what am I ever going to use it for when I'm older.' Jareth hated the sciences and mathematics. He just didn't have the mind for such things. It was too set in stone, too repetitive. The hours seemed to drag by when he was in these sorts of lessons. It was history that fascinated him. He enjoyed hearing his teacher recant tales about battles and war. The world had been such a bloody place to live throughout human existence and this intrigued him. Human existence and how they spent it.

Along with his passion for history, Jareth loved to sing. It was a little known past time to his class mates, but he would often break into song when he would be performing chores at home or when he walked home from school on days like this. Looking outside just made his heart ache to sing again, it cleared his mind.

After about thirty more minutes of blathering from his teacher, the bell to freedom finally rang to let out school. Jareth gathered his things slowly, wanting to let the others leave before him giving him the space he required to sing. He had for a long time wanted to write his own lyrics, but he soon found that he didn't have the skill for it. So it turned that he stuck to tunes he knew already.

It really was a beautiful day. It was silent save the sounds of the low humming spring crickets and the wind pushing its way through the afternoon fields. He was in no hurry to get home having been assigned a rather lengthy bit of homework from his math teacher. He mentally thanked Mr. Lexor for that and then added a rather rude comment about his mother. Jareth decided he would much rather be outside, and found a nice plot of grass to sit down inside.

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The throne room was now squirming with various goblins. Derek sat in front of them all, still yet to speak. Instead he just sat there, his eyes intently focused on them all. Even the dwarf Hoggle had come to hear the announcement. He had been a member of the city for a while. The lure of riches and material possessions had brought him there. Derek was often generous with rewards for favors.

Derek sighed deeply and propped himself up. "Quiet!" Only one word from him was needed to stop the chatter. They all now stood attentive waiting for him to talk. Some was out of respect for their king, but mostly they silenced to quickly out of fear.

"Goblins, my loyal goblins..." He looked them all over. "I know that many of you have spent your whole life with me as your king, and some of you are just beginning. But as I know you have been noticing, from the gossip you all chatter to each other all the time, that I have become old. My time left is indeed, short. This is why I have had you all come so I could officially announce I will be searching for a successor."

He became silent; his subjects remained so as well not knowing what kind of reaction would be appropriate. In their minds a successor meant two things, the chance for a freer, more loving king...or the dreaded other, where the king could become crueler then they could ever have imagined. It was true that they did hold a close bond with Derek, but no relationship with a Goblin King came without fear.

"I will begin my search as soon as I am able. That is all." He was simply in no mood for a long speech. What he had said was simply going to have to do. The chattering among the goblins soon picked up again discussing what they had just heard. Their voices were inaudible, but at the same time Derek did not care to hear what they were saying.

There was so much work to be done, and so little time. As he saw it, he had perhaps two more years to find some one to take the throne, show them the ways of magic, and to become a King so mighty, no goblin could say his name without a twinge of fear. It indeed would be a challenge of a lifetime.

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A/N: Wow, first off, sorry for a really short first chapter. I know it was pretty slow but I wanted to set up the idea of the story. More is to come in my next chapter! It will pick up very quickly though, trust me ;) hope you drop a review my way, and as always, hope you enjoyed. 


	2. A New Hope

A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed! I'm sorry I didn't update sooner, but I'm hoping that with this chapter I'll be on the path to consistent updating! Just bare with me, I'm a college kid now!

Anyway, I did my best with keeping Jareth Jareth-like, hope you enjoy!

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Jareth was tired, tired of school, life, and everything in general. The only thing that brought him solace was his weekly choir practice. He could break lose when he was performing, let all emotion that he had bottled up inside flow from his heart and soul. It was here that Jareth could be Jareth.

It had become a custom of his to attend this particular class early and have tea with his instructor. She was a strong independent woman who had quite simply captured his fascination. Recently a widower to the Great War she too enjoyed the time with her student.

She sat proper and refined as a classic well, classy woman. But she had a definite power to her. Her chin length brown hair curved inwards to her pronounced cheeks. She was thick but not in anyway over weight. It was a defined build. Her dark brown eyes would always seem like they were wandering when she sang as well...her voice, that's what truly made Jareth stir about her. He could not find words do describe her song; it was haunting and beautiful all at once. It had innocence and bravery with strength binding it together. It left him breathless. Mrs. Sadie Howell (Yes an ironic name for such a woman) was one of the few people Jareth found himself enjoying the company of.

"So, I hear you have been falling back in your work a bit in your other classes my boy. Now I know you may think that I was never your age and could not ever relate, but please I implore, what is on your mind?" She was an aged woman, but she carried her age well. Most people would never think that she was in her late forties. Her rosy lips puckered and blew lightly towards her cup before taking a small sip.

Jareth shifted his weight a bit and coked his head. "To be frank, I'm just bored." He took a sip of his tea as well. "I have been finding it harder and harder to get my self to feel like anything is relevant to me anymore." He hated almost all of his lessons and his teachers rubbed him the wrong way. "I don't feel like it's my place in life to be taught all these useless facts and end up in a position under a tyrannical boss at a pay that can hardly support my family." Jareth recalled his own home life. His biggest fear in life was to become a nobody nameless worker like his father and the countless numbers of other Englishman in his county.

Mrs. Howell nodded taking in what he had to say. It was true that the area was not famous for its economic prestige by a long shot. She could fully understand his frustration. "I understand you Jareth, but I don't think you should foolishly toss away your education. Knowledge is power don't ever think otherwise." A noise from behind caused her to look away for a moment as another student entered the room. She pulled out a pocket watch and placed her tea down.

"Looks like its time to put this behind us for now and get to the practice!" She hurried Jareth up and gathered his notes and such before walking over to her podium. Jareth took his place on the risers in the back and waited for the others to shuffle in a little annoyed with the fact he still wished to talk.

There would be time for talk later he supposed.

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Practice went well he felt. After an hour and a half of singing he felt as though a lot of his frustration had melted away. His dinner was to be served soon back home so he had little time to stay and talk with Mrs. Howell. His family was large. He was more or less a middle child of eight other siblings and with little money to support them all he would have to hurry if he had any hopes of having dinner that night.

The walk home took him through the better part of town. There was a small population of people that had managed to escape lower class and decided to cluster all together to show off how rich they were to each other. Many of them were factory owners. No work put out for all the profits. Part of Jareth hated these people, but the other part was so envious of their power. Control was something he had never had experienced his whole life.

The kids his age here loved to use their power and shove it in every ones faces. They were "in charge" as far as they saw it. Most of the time Jareth would walk through the center of the block but there was some kind of woman's club organization congregating in the center planning some sort of frilly festival of some kind. He couldn't be bothered with the crowds.

"Bloody hell." He murmured to himself as he ducked into a back street. He was hungry and a little on edge.

He could suddenly hear foot steps behind him. He didn't feel like dealing with any one at the moment so he kept his pace steady looking only before him.

"Oy!" The voice came out sharply. They wanted his attention. Jareth sighed and looked over his shoulder. It was Jack Barrington, the son of his father's boss. They had run-ins before which never seemed to end civilly. The last encounter had nearly landed them in a fight if a patrol officer hadn't come by and questioned them.

Despite their clashing, Jareth and Jack were really rather similar. They both wanted power and control over others. The only problem was only one of them really had it and it was sure not Jareth.

"What do you think you're doing sleuthing 'round my backyard?" He was slightly larger then Jareth, but it was in the middle and not with muscle. He had more strength but Jareth had stamina and determination.

"I'm going home, not that it's really any of your busyness thank you. Incidentally I didn't know this was your yard." Jareth turned and kept walking. Jack however was not amused nor convinced. He was sure that he was up to something.

Jack quickened his pace. "I don't quite trust you downtown kids you know? Nuffin but trouble you lot!" Jareth had no time for this. "Not now Jack. I'm hungry." He stated bluntly and kept onward.

"Don't you just turn your back on me. I don't think that you at all have the place to do such a thing! You're worthless, my family has all the say and all the power in this town. My father has connections." A spark went off within Jareth and he stopped dead and whipped around.

"What do you know about my place?" Jareth walked within a few inched of his rival. "Where do you come off telling someone like me where I belong?" Jareth was not about to have the son of his fathers boss hold the same kind of power over him.

"I suggest you get your grubby little face away from me Jareth." Jack's tone was soft but harsh.

"Why don't you make me?" Jareth could feel his hands shaking. They were currently clenched into tight little fists. The blow to his face came almost too fast for him to react. Jareth staggered backwards supporting a now slightly bloody lip.

"You've just gone and done one of the stupidest things you could have gone and done there Jack." Jareth's voice was so much more noticeably cold. He lunged towards Jack and delivered a like blow to his face but didn't stop there. He was even able to fit in an extra punch. Speed was his best asset and he decided to use it.

In a blind fury Jack pushed Jareth into an adjacent wall causing a hard impact to his head. In a bit of a daze Jareth brought his knee up into the stomach of Jack who in return fell to his side holding the area of impact.

Jareth whipped his face with his hand smearing some of the blood. He spit next to him, more blood.

"Now you listen to me Jack, you may be larger then me, and your father may be rich and have all the connections but you will never, _ever_ have any power over me you hear? You have no power over me at all." Jareth turned his back on the boy who was still trying to catch his breath knowing that this little tussle could have very well cost him his dinner.

Little did he know there was a third party watching in on his fight and they liked what they saw. An old man had some new hope. Derek would be soon traveling to the world of above.


End file.
